


Stitches and Bones

by bluemelanie



Series: Rusted Bloodlines [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Reader-Insert, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemelanie/pseuds/bluemelanie
Summary: Being a full-time nurse in London has its moments, your job looks more promising when a certain Assassin and gang leader enters your life. With more Rooks to patch up, you wonder if London will ever get less hectic.





	1. Another Day At Work

**Author's Note:**

> This is non-beta'd and I'm also dyslexic so expect typos.

Hands once again bloodied, you stepped back to look over your work, the bandage on your patient's forearm seemed to be bound tight, "your arm should heal up rather soon - I imagine in about a week's time, the cut was not deep enough to deem having stitches, consider yourself lucky" you said to your patient.

"Aye thank you miss, don't know what we'd do without cha." He replied.

You sighed as you put away your tools into your bag, "it seems evident you Clinkers have grown larger in size - have you seized this entire compound?" You gesture to the stronghold around you in Whitechapel.

"Clinkers? Nay. We 'ave a new name; The Rooks." He replied curtly.

You gave him a quizzical look, "what prompted this change in gang name?"

He rolled down his bright green sleeve as he replied, "a boss, new to town, gathered up the lot of us and gave us directions, we 'ave taken over Blighter territory in Whitechapel so far... and those who don't join us get the-" he motioned his thumb over his throat in a slitting motion.

"Oh," you got the meaning of his actions, "well he must be good at his job as this is the furthermost I have seen this gang come - means more business for me so I am not complaining." 

You both stood up, your patient ready to depart before adding, "aye he said he works with the Assassins - if that's anything to ya." And with that he departed and joined the rest of his mates in the green coats. 

The Assassins? Henry had not told you anything about this, though it had been a few weeks since you had last seen him, you ought to drop by. With that resolve in mind you set off towards his Curio shop, gritting your teeth as you noticed blood drying under your nails, you had forgotten to cut them and now as a result had to try pry the caked-up blood from the crevasses. Luckily you knew of a small park on the way, you would have to stop off a wash your hands in the fountain as a make-do clean up until you reached your home.

* * * *

You knocked on the open door of the Curio shop before letting yourself in, "Henry?" you asked aloud to the seemingly empty room. 

"Hmm? Henry is upstairs," came a female voice from around the corner.

You turned the corner and approached the counter to see a woman standing behind, about your age, decked out in a black coat and trousers just like yourself, though her outfit seemed much more stylish that your long steel grey coat and blouse. You raised an eyebrow at her, "I was unaware Mister Green had hired staff to attend to his shop," you said challengingly. 

At this she looked away from her books and up at you, she frowned slightly, "he did not - he is merely retrieving more paperwork for me." 

You matched her frown, "I gather this is not paperwork regarding his Curio shop then?" you eyed the gauntlet on her left wrist, "I was also unaware more Assassins had come into London. I thought the city was deemed off-limits by the Counsel." You set your bag of tools down on the counter to cross your arms at look at her smugly, she clearly was not expecting you to know as much as you do. 

Her eyebrows had raised in surprise at your words, "and whom is it I am speaking to?" She asked simply.

You sighed under your breath, uncrossing you arms, "I'm [F/N] [L/N], a nurse of sorts, since I cannot be the doctor I wish to be due to being a woman." 

She held out her gloved left hand to shake yours, "Evie Frye, here to liberate London whether the Counsel likes it or not" you shook her hand to be polite. 

"So are you the new gang leader behind the Rooks?" You asked.

Evie scoffed and rolled her eyes, but before she could reply you were interrupted by a familiar voice behind you. "Ah [Y/N]! It is good to see you," Henry approached the counter with a stack of books a paperwork in his arms, which made a loud _thump_ noise as he dropped them on the counter-top. "What brings you here?" 

"Well, I was tending to some injuries in Whitechapel, my patient informed me that the Clinkers have become the Rooks - and that their leader is an Assassin. Information you have not informed me of," you said the last bit in an exasperated sigh.

"I am terribly sorry for not informing you, but as it is the Frye twins only arrived two days ago, forgive me for forgetting to send a spy out to inform you," he said it with sincerity. 

"Twins?" You asked with yet another raised eyebrow as you looked from Henry to Evie.

Evie clucked her tongue, "yes, my twin brother - Jacob Frye - and I came here on a whim, he is the so-called gang leader of the Rooks. Terrible name for gang, honestly." She started to look through the pile Henry had brought to her.

You huffed a little laugh, "is he any good at chess?" 

She thumped the book she was holding back on the counter and look up at you with exasperation, "that's just it - he isn't!" Though as exasperated as she seemed by it all, you saw a smile on her lips as she looked back at the book. _True brother/sister banter then_ you thought to yourself.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, "well, with all this news about gangs I guess I will have more work cut out for me. At least when the Clinkers were small I did not have to bandage up as many people." 

Evie sheepishly looked up at you again, "...do you help the Blighters, per chance?" She asked tentatively. 

You dragged a hand down your face, forgetting about the dried blood in between your fingers, "No. I know I am supposed to stick to the Hippocratic Oath, but because of them I have to tend to so many sick children and their families. I could not, with good conscious, help those in power take even more from the poor." Looking down at your hands you realised there was still dried blood in the lines of your palms too, you had not done a good job of cleaning them the first time, "anyway I best be off - the work hour is almost upon us and I best clean myself up before tending to those in the factories." With that you picked up your bag and walked out the door with a mock salute to the both of them. Faintly you heard their rushed goodbyes as you marched out of the Curio shop and out onto the streets of Whitechapel. 

* * * *

Your home was located on the western side of the city of London, as it was very central to all the suburbs surrounding it, so you could get to any borough as quickly as possible. However, this was still quite the trek from Whitechapel, you hoped your carriage had not been nicked from where you left in in the Rook stronghold. The amount of times your two-person carriage had been stolen was getting quite ridiculous and frustrating in all honesty. You had still hoped, perhaps you still put too much faith in humanity, or at least in Whitechapel, because to your dismay you carriage was indeed no longer where you had left it. Pinching the bridge of your nose you let out a frustrated groan, "how am I supposed to get home in time to clean up if I am to tend to those leaving work," you muttered to yourself. 

"I could help with that," came a deep husky voice from behind you. 

You quickly turned around on the spot to face the stranger, he was dressed a little too nicely to be from Whitechapel, his top hat and coat were not a common find in this neighbourhood. "And who might you be?" You asked defensively.

"Haven't heard of me yet? No matter, I guess it is early days," he mused - mostly to himself, "the name is Jacob Frye, leader of the Rooks, at your service." 

"Hpmf," you scoffed, "not what I was expecting - though I supposed those scars give you a more fearful look. Forgive me for being blunt, but most gang leaders... are not so refined." As soon as you said that you noticed his shirts were not tucked in, "well, more or less." 

He seemed to take no offence, "I'll take that as a compliment Miss...?" 

"[F/N] [L/N], and how do you intend to help me with my situation Mister Frye?" You asked, armed crossed.

He approached you until he was at your side, looking out onto the road in front of you both, "well, I am guessing your carriage was nicked - so let us call it karma and get you another one?" 

You frowned, "stealing from the poorest suburb in London does not sit well with me Mister Frye."

He shrugged, "who said anything about stealing, it is called borrowing, ever heard of it?" He teased.

You rolled your eyes, "that I have no qualms with, it is you I do not trust, at least not yet... But, I suppose I can excuse myself this one time - since I am only in a rush home to help others." 

He smiled crookedly at you, "that's the spirit." He quickly crossed the road to a vacant carriage, the exposed kind with two seats in front, "are we not in a rush?" He asked across the street.

"Alright!" You yelled back as you quickly crossed the road and hoped into the carriage, clinging onto your bag with a frightening grip. You gave Jacob the directions to your home and he wasted no time getting into the driver's seat, snapping the reins to a jolting start. He was driving with more haste than your average driver, a few sharp corners had you frantically grabbing onto the side of the carriage with one arm, but it was not the most reckless driving you had seen.

Asides from almost crashing into a lamp post, the ride to your home was uneventful and you were home before you knew it. Once the carriage came to a stop both you and Jacob stepped down onto the sidewalk almost simultaneously. You turned to face him, "thank you Mister Frye for the ride home." You stuck your hand out to shake his gloved one, which he took with no hesitation. 

"It's Jacob, and the pleasure is all mine." He replied with a slight smile. You were about to depart and walk through the gate to the complex you lived in before Jacob's hand gripped your arm stopping your movements. You looked over you shoulder expectantly at him, to which he dropped his hand. "I just wanted to say, my Rooks have told me that you help them out with their injuries, for little or no money - so I wanted to thank you." His voice was nothing short of sincere. "It is not often you get people in this retched city who are willing to help others for very little, or no reward, my men and woman in the field are very blessed that people like you exist and look out for the little man. It is very admirable."

This thanks had thrown you off, causing to to blush at his words, looking down at your feet as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind you ear you replied, "oh, well, I just do what I can to help the good citizens of London." Truth be told you did not need their money anyway, being the only child you had inherited your parents earnings, and they were high ranking citizens in this aristocratic society. Willing your blush to lessen you looked back up at him, his eyes had to be the most intricate colour of hazel you had ever seen, "I best be off, people will be leaving the factories soon - no doubt having attained injuries at work."

Jacob cleared his throat and refocused his vision, as if he was lost in thought, "well, of course. Good evening Miss [L/N] - I hope to see you again in the future" he added a wink for good measure.

"And to you too," you quickly said before unlocking the gate and quickly walking through the complex's garden to your front door of your home. Slamming the door behind yourself you leaned against it for support, dropping your supply bag with a dull clatter, as you viciously fanned your face with your right hand. You hoped he didn't see how much his wink made you blush an even more scarlet colour. _Good lord how unbecoming_ you thought, you've only just met the man! You blame your blushing over the fact you do no encounter many handsome men who behave in a genuine gentleman-like manner that often, _yes that's all it was, nothing more._


	2. Trek For Supplies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being slow at updating, but this fic is 1k more words than what I intended...

You had been informed by an urchin that there were more casualties than usual in the Southwark fight club. Every time you heard news about injuries attained at the fight clubs you instantly felt heavy dread, men died at these clubs quite often. And of course there were a lot of broken bones, you absolutely loathed setting bones back in place - it always made such a grotesque noise that you could never grow accustomed to.

Regardless, you brushed away the thought of snapped bones as you entered the factory in Southwark that also happened to contain a fighting ring - how any of this was allowed you will never know. You heard Topping's voice long before you saw him, "another round to Miss Frye!" The crowd did not seemed too pleased about that if the lack of response was anything to go by, people hardly bet on the new comers. "One more round Miss Frye and you'll have your earnings!" With the toll of a bell the next round had begun.

The next round began and you did not look into the ring, instead sole focus on marching over to Robert Topping. "How many injuries do I have to tend to this time?" You asked Topping, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

Your actions seemed to have startled him a little as he jumped slightly in his spot, "oh! Well Doc, no deaths this time - which is nice - but you will have your work cut out for you as we have had the Frye twins come in and shown my boys what for." He replied, cheerily as always.

You frowned a little, why would heavily trained Assassins go out punching the working class for money? You had no time to dwell on that train of thought as you noticed a man sitting off to the side cradling his arm to his chest, _please don't have a broken arm, please don't have a broken arm._

Though the first man you tended to did not have a broken arm, but a twisted wrist, the same could not be said for your other couple of patients who had received one or two - or even in one case, four - broken bones each. It is just as well you brought over a plethora of splints and casting materials. Most injured men had left to seek medical attention elsewhere since there was only one of you and you could not get through all of them quickly enough. The fighting was long over when you were assessing your last patient from the ring for any internal bleeding, his bruises on his chest had you initially worried, but it was nothing more than bruises and extreme tenderness after all. "Alright you might want to take a couple of drop of these over the course of the next couple of days to ease the pain," you instructed to the patient as you handed him over some laudanum. It was the last of the pain killers you had too, you would have to order some more on your way home tonight - normally you stocked up in advance but with the amount of injuries you had to attend to at this fighting ring alone your supply stock had been drained quite substantially. 

He hissed in pain as he accepted the small bottle of liquid, "right you are - thank you Miss." 

You smiled at him before gathering up your tools, "you are quite welcome." And with that he was stumbling out the factory doors on his way home. The rest of the fighters had gone home - Evie too it seemed - Topping was helping clean up the ring, though he was not the only one who stayed behind. As soon as you made eye contact with Jacob you immediately got back to putting your tools away into your bag, hoping you did not look as flustered as you felt.

Hearing his footsteps prevented him from being able to give you a fright as he approached from behind you asking, "why on earth come all this way for fight club injuries?" Jacob had clearly been in the ring too as he was rolling his shoulder as if it was uncomfortable. 

That comment got under your skin, so perhaps you looked up at him with a slight scowl - what about it? "I hope you realise that it is my job to help people - injured people specifically" you said as you jabbed an index finger sharply to his chest before standing up. 

Now being at relative eye level - _curse him for being an inch taller_ \- you could see he seemed unaffected by your tone, "well, that is mighty kind of you to attend to those who willingly injure themselves." He replied snarky. 

You rolled your eye at his rebuttal, "some people are hard of cash Mister Frye. Besides, what the hell are two well trained _Assassins_ -" you spat the word out, "-doing fighting regular civilians?" 

He frowned at that accusation, "believe it or not _doctor_ , the liberation of London is not cheap - and I have Rooks to accommodate for!" 

"You know as well as any other I am no doctor, no need to be an ass about it." Annoyed, you turned to leave, though once again his grip prevented you from doing so. 

He sighed loudly as you turned around, "that was out of line, I apologise... today has been a rough day I admit." His voice got rather sheepish near the end of his confession. 

Using your free hand that was not holding your bag of supplies you pried his hand off of your arm, "what happened to you to make you so sour?" There was no malice in your voice, honestly you just wanted to drop the argument.

Jacob seemed to have caught on, his lips twitched in one corner before he answered, "we were unsuccessful in taking over the Blighter stronghold here in Southwark, something that has yet to happen to myself and my Rooks until today." He was frowning again, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. 

"Yes I suppose that is rather unfortunate, perhaps they may double up on their security knowing you'll be bound to ambush them again." That clearly was not the right thing to say, as he was looking at you quizzically with a raised eyebrow. Sympathising you hastily added words of encouragement, "though of course it is a way to hone in your Assassin skins - the Rooks too - I have faith you will get it next time with no issues." 

He smiled crookedly at you, "your vote of confidence is much appreciated [Y/N]." With one shoe he scuffed the ground before asking, "any more plans to help the sick today... or tonight I should say." He corrected himself when he looked over your shoulder to see the sky vastly darkening through the windows.

Turning around you saw the dark sky for yourself, "damn - I actually have to go to Westminster to visit my old professor from medical school who gives me my supplies, and I do not fancy going out such a far distance in the dark." Sighing in defeat you muttered to yourself, "guess I will just have to brave it." You did not want to get behind your supply stock, today had proven you would need more tools than you had needed in the past. 

Jacob moved to stand by your right-hand side, "suppose you cannot leave it 'til tomorrow?" 

"No, I barely have enough left to help anymore tomorrow - I cannot have people turning to those godawful concoctions like that Soothing Syrup!" You gritted your teeth in frustration at the mention of that vile product, what a capitalist scheme to ruin people's lives. Although, laudanum was not much better, as addictive as it was.

Jacob cleared his throat, "well, I did take care of that wretched man Doctor Elliotson - if you can even call that man a doctor." 

Turning to face him once more you asked, "are you the one behind his sudden death?"

He rubbed the back of his neck as if he was uncomfortable, "yes, with the help of Charli- Charles Darwin I was able to find out that he was behind the creation of this Soothing Syrup and he was stubbornly set on trying to prove his phrenology theories." Jacob's voice was laced with blatant disgust. 

"What a vile excuse of a human being, thank you for getting rid of that immoral man," your voice was genuine - you had heard rumours about what went on in Lambeth Asylum, but you were never able to sneak into said Asylum to investigate yourself. 

"It is so baffling that a man like _that_ can be a doctor, yet a wonderful woman as yourself cannot. Absolute rubbish," he muttered aloud before he smiled widely at you. "And it is all in a day's work - now, let's get you to those supplies." 

Jacob had already started to make his exit from the building and in your momentary shock from his words you had to do a little jog to catch up to him. "Let's? Plural? Were you heading out to Westminster already?"

"Yes, plural and no I was not heading to Westminster I was actually going to stay here in Southwark to get some more work done. However, I cannot have you trek across one of the most dangerous cities in the westerns with any good conscious." He had not stopped walking as he was talking, he only stopped once on the sidewalk to question which carriage was yours. 

"It's that one," you pointed to the small carriage across the street and he headed straight towards it without hesitation. "Wait!" You stumbled after him, "I do not require your help - I am the same age as you and I have been living in this city far longer than you!" That stopped him from getting into the drivers seat. "I do not need a nanny, Mister Frye." 

He turned around to look at you, his face was concealed by the shadows of his top hat, "and how often have you run into trouble Miss [L/N]?" Jacob's voice was harsh, "Greenie has told me of some of the, let's say, _'incidents'_ you have found yourself in the past. Your luck can only go so far, you really ought not to test it." He probably had a very stern look on his face if you had to guess. 

Rubbing your temples you sighed in defeat, some of those incidents in the past still haunted you to some degree - you were very lucky to escape them with your life and dignity in-tact. "Fine, I accept your assistance to help me get to Westminster."

Jacob huffed, "even if you had not, I would have tailed you," his voice was back to its normal self, all trace of harshness gone. "Not often people turn down my help."

He made a move to get into the driver's seat before you grabbed him by the belt. "Ahem, but why do you think I will let you drive my _new_ carriage?" 

Jacob backed off and shrugged, "well, if you insist," he said in a smug voice. 

Rolling your eyes you shoved your bag of supplies roughly to his chest once he had sat down in the passenger seat, "hold this." He nodded once, adjusting his top hat as he did. Admittedly you were glad, since this was an exposed two-seat carriage you were too worried to leave your bag on the passenger seats and instead opted to put your arm through the bags handles as you drove. It was just a small/medium sized bag so it wasn't all that heavy but it always made driving more difficult. So, having Jacob hold onto it would make your driving easier for once. Without wasting anymore time you quickly got into the driver's seat and took the reins, the horse pushing forward with a jolt. It was relatively quiet leaving Southwark but once you had crossed the Thames and into Westminster the traffic had picked up substantially. The drive had been almost uneventful, _almost_ , that was until some deranged fool decided to merge in front of you at a dangerous speed at a very busy intersection "watch it you bloody wanker!" You yelled defiantly at said offender. "Bloody idiot is going to get himself killed," you muttered to yourself under your breath.

You saw Jacob's top hat poke out from the carriage a little bit, though from your high angle it was had to tell, "did not take you for the kind to yell profanities, love." 

Rolling your eyes you snapped on the reins with a little more force than usual, "as if the madman did not have it coming!" You retorted. 

Jacob did not respond, at least not verbally, but you could hear him chuckling as his top hat ducked out from your sight once more. 

Before you could say anymore you noticed the corner up ahead to your left, your professor's shop. As luck would have it there was a spot vacant for you to leave your carriage right outside of his shop. You hopped down to see Jacob already standing on the sidewalk holding your bag out for you to take. _He sure moves quickly_ , you thought to yourself as you gratefully took the bag from him. You were going to protest to Jacob joining you inside, but thought the idea a futile attempt and ignored the thought as you entered the store, the bell chiming loudly to signal you and Jacob's arrival. The store was small and dark, many of the candles barely able to say alight on the burnt out wicks.

A mustached man appeared from the door behind the counter, "oh, if it isn't my favourite student," he noticed Jacob tailing in behind you, "and who is this?"

"A friend of mine, Jacob Frye, and this is my old professor Mister Rickson," they simply nodded to each other a you introduced them. "I am afraid I am here for more orders."

He looked a little surprised at your words, "already? My what have you been doing?"

You sighed, "well with those two gangs going at each other's necks these days I have a lot more work cut out for me - I have run out of laudanum today and am down to my last roll of bandages."

Without saying anything Mister Rickson ducked down behind the counter to rummage through it. Moments later he was setting down a large box with a _thump_ , "laudanum - more than I usually give you in one order but I have a feeling you'll be needing it, along with these" he placed a handful of bandages onto of said box. He ducked down once more to get out the familiar bottles containing carbolic acid, Creosote, white vitriol, et cetera - the antiseptics and disinfectants. "So, I take you want your usual order?"

"Yes, though I feel I will be back again much sooner than usually," you replied with a small, sad smile. 

Once you had confirmed your order and placed your payment you were about to pick up your new supplies to leave, only a gloved hand stopped you, "allow me." Jacob's smile was as charming as ever, making your cheeks flush. 

You nodded curtly to try hide the blush from him, "thank you Jacob." You both headed back outdoors to your carriage only to see a couple of men harassing your horse. 

Before you could yell at the men Jacob simply placed your items into the front passenger seat and calmly turned to one of the men, "I'll kindly ask you men to leave us." His voice was firm and very demanding.

One of the men eyed your new medicines, "oi what's all this then?" He made a move to grab at you boxes but a hand flew out and grabbed him tightly by the wrist.

"I would not do that if I were you," Jacob gritted each word out punctually. Quickly he shoved the man down into the sidewalk by his wrist, making it bend at a painful angle. The first man Jacob had talked to pulled something out of his coat, however, he was too slow and Jacob was too fast with his reflexes. Before your eyes could even comprehend what they had just seen you saw a small knife fling to the ground to land at your feet, you looked up to see Jacob had disarmed the man and was painfully pinning said man's arm behind his own back. "Now I'm going to tell you both to leave," Jacob's voice was once again imperative.

The man on the ground scuffled up, clutching his wrist to his chest, "alright, alright we're going!" Jacob pushed the man he had pinning into the other, making them collide awkwardly as they tried to scuffle off. 

When you looked back at Jacob you saw he had his Assassin hood up, where his top hat went you did not see. "I think I'll take the reins love," he said smoothly.

Albeit shocked by it all the only thing you could do in response was nod in agreement before you ducked into your carriage, holding onto your new supplies so tightly until your knuckles went white. Without another word Jacob took the reins and set the carriage off into the streets. _It seems having Jacob here with me was a good idea,_ you thought to yourself as you watched the streets of London go by.

Once again you and Jacob stood by the gate to your housing complex. "Thank you Jacob, truly, you did not have to help escort me all this way and yet you did."

Jacob still had his hood up so it was hard to gauge his reaction, "and you do not have to help the people of London and yet you do." You could hear the smile in his voice, which made you smile in turn. 

You opened the gate slightly, looking over your shoulder to address him, "well, I do hope we meet in other circumstances, not just when I need an escort home." Blushing again you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear with your free hand.

Jacob chuckled at your words, "as do I Miss [L/N], and perhaps more than just once every three weeks." He probably winked, _he absolutely winked._

"Well let us hope that the next time we meet it is not me patching you up," you said smugly.

He huffed out a laugh at that, "goodnight [F/N]," he said as he was turning to leave.

"Goodnight Jacob." The gate creaked loudly as you opened it some more, "wait!" You turned back to each other with the same speed, "how are you getting home, do you need to borrow my carriage?" Your voice was laced with a little bit of worry.

"No, don't you worry about me, my home is always closer than you think," and with that he was off into the shadows without a trace.

You frowned at his words, _the hell does that mean? I will have to ask Henry next time I see him._ You hoped it wasn't some kind of crass innuendo. The thought made you blush even redder. Was the man ever going to leave you without making you blush? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will not be Jacob escorting Reader somewhere I promise!


	3. Exit Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot of talk about blood but that's mostly it, just so you're warned.

_It is so baffling that a man like_ that _can be a doctor, yet a **wonderful** woman as yourself cannot. Absolute rubbish. _Wonderful. Only having met Jacob on two separate occasions, barely more than strangers and he thought you were wonderful. Why was he so lovely to you, was he this flattering to everyone else? You were staring into your morning tea as if the hot liquid held answers at the bottom of the cup. It did not. His words had rattled around your head all night making your thoughts loud and hard to tune out. It took awhile to fall asleep, loathe as you hate to admit it. You do not understand why his words stuck to you like this, when you were younger your father had you courted by various men, all handsome and friendly... but that arranged married life was not one you would live. Yet none of the men who had courted you in adolescence had taken over your mind quite like Jacob did, they certainly did not make you blush as much.

Looking out your kitchen window you saw how high the sun had risen. Sighing, you put down your tea cup of now cold and unfinished tea. Today you had to go out to meet Clara to see if she needed any more medical supplies for the children she kept an eye on. There was no way you would let her or any of the other children fall ill because their families only had enough money for the poisonous black market concoctions. Once out your front door and into the complex's gardens a sudden gust of wind made you realise how cold it had gotten overnight. Tugging your coat tighter was a futile attempt, your steel grey coat was not the warmest on the market - but it made you recognisable against the other women in their brightly colours skirts. Once out onto the streets there were no more gusts of wind, the tall buildings blocking most of it, yet there was a persistent breeze that was determined to make your bun messier than usual. _So, it is one of those days,_ you thought to yourself. Since you and Clara had already prepared this meeting beforehand she graciously decided to come to the city of London so you would not have to waste your day commuting to Lambeth where she lived, well most of the time. Thus your walk was brisk, only two blocks away from your home. The tea-house was warm when you stepping inside, the giant roaring fireplace in to the left wall no doubt the source. Clara was sitting by the windows, idly people watching. 

You had not thought she had seen your arrival, she did not move her head from its current position. However, as soon as you approached the table she greeted you, her eyes still trained on the people beyond her. "Good mornin' Miss." It was like she had eyes at the back of her head.

"And to you Miss Clara," you replied as you sat down in your seat. The action made her finally face you, she was smiling brightly, looking plenty healthy from what you could see.

"I'll keep this brief, I can't be holding up the best nurse of London." Her sneaking into private teaching lessons in the Strand had always made her sound so much older than she was. 

"Alright let us see what I've got for you," placing your bag onto the table you rummaged around until you found the parcel of medicines you had prepared. "Ah! Here we are." You slide the parcel over the table to Clara's side, "again, I have mainly included antiseptics and disinfectants, but there are other goodies in there as well."

She giggled, "only you would refer to medical supplies as 'goodies'." 

Before you could chide her, a little scruffy boy, no younger than Clara, walked up to you table. "Sorry to interrupt, but I came here to tell Clara that there's been an incident at the nearby children's factory!" He sounded winded, as if he ran the entire way. 

Clara shot up out of her seat, package tightly fisted in one hand, "what kind of incident?"

The boy huffed a little to catch his breath, "we were being rescued, no bell alarms triggered, everything was fine. Mister Frye killed all the Blighters working there, but once the Rooks came to help us get to our homes the men with the red crosses came in!"

You too stood up at this, "do you mean Blighters?"

"No ma'am, well Jacob didn't call them that, he called 'em Templars. They were trying to forcefully take us back but Jacob and the Rooks weren't 'aving it, as a result many of the Rooks have been wounded." He was leaning his hands on his knees as he struggled to regain his breath.

"Any children?" Clara asked.

He shook his head as he straightened up again, "I couldn't say. There was so much blood I came running as soon as I could."

"We must go at once!" You commanded, both children nodding without hesitation. 

* * *

All three of you arrived at the factory in record time, surveying the area you saw a bunch of Rooks crowed together, many clutching their arms or hands. But you did not see any children, it made your heart sink. Clara took the initiative before you could, marching her way to a Rook, "where are the rest of the children?" She demanded.

He looked a little sheepishly at her, "gone home, they're safe Clara."

Clara's shoulders slumped in relief, "thank bloody hell for that. I assume I should be thanking you men and women for this?"

A familiar voice answered from somewhere within the cluster of Rooks, "no need for your thanks Clara, it is our job."

She went to the source of the voice, loosing sight of her in the cluster of green. "Well I thank ye anyway."

The familiar voice chuckled, "you are quite welcome, kid."

Looking around once more you noticed blood scattered around, mainly on the ground, on the Rooks' clothes and even on the outer walls of the factory. Clara emerged from the crowd of Rooks and approached you and the boy, "alright we best be one our way. That lot-" she jabbed her thumb in the direction of the Rooks- "need a lot of tending to, and I'd prefer not to be here whilst that happens. Thank ya' miss for the supplies."

You nodded once, "of course Miss Clara." She quickly left the scene with the small lad. 

With that you headed over to the Rooks, they certainly did not seem their cheerful selves. Though there was one not dressed in green, sitting on the brick fence out of the way was Jacob Frye himself. You paid him no mind, "alright, so what's the damage?" You asked aloud to the group. There were only a handful of them so hopefully it would be quick work.

"Mainly cuts and gashes ma'am," one woman answered.

Humming you knelt to the Rook closest to you, "just as well I stocked up yesterday." As you set to work on the cut in this man's forearm you could feel a pair of eyes burning into your skull. Probably creamy hazel eyes that had a tinge of green in them. Like the woman had said, it was mainly cuts and gashes, some deep enough to require stitches but it was so much quicker and easier to handle than that fight club yesterday. Though the amount of blood on the scene would suggest the Templars - as the boy had called them - were not the lucky ones in this fight. Once you had patched up the last of them they left the factory, many thank yous were thrown your way as they left through the gate. Their sincerity made you smile as you packed up your bag.

"Not bad work, [Y/N]," came Jacob's voice from behind.

You stood up to face him, he was still sitting on that fence. However, this time you noticed he was clutching his left bicep, though he face showed no signs of discomfort. "You and your Rooks did a good thing here, Jacob." Without any more time to waste you approached him, roughly putting your bag on the brick fence next to his left. 

In the corner of your eye you could see his white teeth - he was smiling, "and you too; patching them up once again without any coin in return." 

Instead of answering you opted to look at his gash, but you could not pry his hand away from the wound. "Jacob, I know you are injured, do not even bother to hide it," you said exasperatedly. 

"But, I do not want you to waste your time on me, I can go to Nightingale if it's that bad." He replied.

You frowned at him, "well, actually I cannot see how bad it is and this is my job. I am sure Miss Nightingale has her own patients to attend to." 

He seemed to have no rebuttal to you argument since all he did in response was lower his hand and sigh in defeat. "Alright, waste your time on me then. If you insist," his tone was rather sarcastic.

"Take your coat off please," you noted his cheeks pinking at that which made you smile. He took it off diligently, hooking it over his right arm. "You know Jacob, if you can recall yesterday I said I hoped the next time we meet it was not going to be me patching you up," your voice was very smug, "and yet here we are." Pushing up the sleeve of his white undershirt to see the wound you were glad to see it was a shallow cut, it would just need some disinfectant and a bandage, if that.

Jacob huffed, "yes, here we are. I suppose you don't require an escort somewhere per-chance?" He had raised an eyebrow challengingly.

Smirking, you applied the disinfectant that made him hiss in between his teeth, his smug look gone. Though this only made you smile wider, "no, I do not require your escorting skills today." The wound had not ceased bleeding, it was a little deeper than you initially thought but it would not require stitches, only a bandage which you wrapped tightly around his arm. 

He hummed in appreciation, "nice work, love." Once you put away all your supplies he hopped down from the brick wall, putting his ruined coat back on. "Shame I'll have to get another coat I was quite fond of this one."

You noticed he was putting more weight on one leg than the other, "Jacob, what injury have you sustained to your right thigh?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, "uh... maybe a bullethitmeintheleg," he rushed the words out so quickly all you could do was blink as you tried to comprehend them.

"A bullet?!" You knelt down to inspect his thigh.

"A suggestible position if I do say so myself," he said humourously.

You growled, standing upright again, "get in a goddamn carriage and show me where you live!" Your voice was stern, angry even. 

He looked sheepishly at you, "well, about that... I don't have a home per-se."

Your frown deepend, "Jacob, I do not have time for this, I need to tend to your wound right now and I don't particularly want you bleeding out on my couch."

"So, we will ruin my couch?" He retorted.

"Yes _your_ couch with _your_ blood - now do you live nearby or not?" You were getting impatient. 

He sighed, leaning against the brick wall he had been sitting on, "I live on a train - though where abouts it is I do not know."

You were so frustrated you could kick at the dirt, "then how do you usually find out where it is?!"

Jacob just shrugged, "Rooks or urchins, ask where they last saw it." 

You looked out onto the street through the gate, some green coats loitering at a carriage. Wasting no time you marched right over to them. "Excuse me sirs, but have you seen that train that the Frye twins own circulating around recently?"

The bigger man, a brute, answered immediately, "yes, we last saw it crossing the Thames, it should be in central station soon - shall we scout ahead and tell the driver to keep it posted at the central station for the boss?" His voice was gentle, not as rough or deep as you were expecting.

You sighed in relief, "yes, if you would be so kind."

They both winked at you, "anything for the best nurse of London," and with that they were off into the streets. 

Rushing back over to Jacob you started to take his right arm to loop around your shoulders for support before he backed off. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked hotly.

You grabbed his arm again, "you are not putting any more strain on that leg, you will lean on me for support and you get into a carriage and I will take us to the train station and you will let me treat you for fuck's sake." You were getting fed up with his stubbornness. This time he did not pull back when you looped his arm over your shoulder.

"Are all nurses this bossy?" He asked as you got onto the street. The carriage that the Rooks had been guarding was vacant. "Also this is a green carriage, love, one of ours, feel free to 'borrow' one in the future," he said as he got inside. Huffing the wild strand of hair out of your eyes you chucked your bag of supplies in after him. Wasting no more time to climbed into the driver's seat and quickly set out to the central train station on the other side of the suburb. 

* * *

Jacob had begrudgingly leaned on you for support once at the train station. When he pointed you to his train you were not expecting it to be so sleek, it was pretty posh for London. Jacob's room was unsurprisingly messy, though most of the mess was various paperwork scattered everywhere. He also had a huge bookcase which you would have to ogle at once you were done patching his leg up. You had him seated on his couch and you kneeling on the floor in front of him, "hmm," you knitted your eyebrows together in concentration. "Sorry Jacob but I am going to have to cut open your trouser leg, I cannot waste time getting your boots and trousers off - you've lost too much blood."

"Ah, well, they had a bloody huge hole due to the bullet so I was going to use them for scraps anyway." He sounded a bit out of it, the colour was starting to drain from his face.

That was all you needed to see to push yourself into work mode. Cutting open the trouser on his leg was a little more difficult than you had initially anticipated, the material used was much more robust than what you were accustomed to. Once you discarded the material you saw the gunshot wound, it was narrow but very deep, blood thickly oozing out. Getting out a clean rag you quickly dosed it with disinfectant using it to soak up as much blood as you could so you could pry the bullet out. "Jacob, this is going to hurt," you warned him. Not looking up to see his response you pushed onwards, digging your pliers into his skin to pull the bullet out. Jacob did not scream or yell but his breathing quickened rapidly and if you had to guess he was clutching onto the couch with all his strength. Since the entry wound was narrow it was much more difficult to get a grip onto the bullet, the constant oozing of blood also making it hard to see as you had to keep wiping it away. The pain must have been getting to Jacob for he let out a long groan. Eventually you were able to close the pliers around the bullet and pull it out excruciatingly slowly, but the bullet finally came free. This caused a lot more blood to pour out so you had to toss the bloodied pliers and bullet into your bag as you scrambled to put pressure on the wound. 

"Bloody hell," you heard Jacob mutter. 

"Yes, sadly anesthetic is not very mobile, all I could offer would be some chloroform but that have negative side affects I'm afraid." You mumbled back at him. 

He was going to reply but was cut off by his own hiss of pain as you put more disinfectant on the wound. 

"Sorry," you muttered. "Though you are in luck, since the bullet was very narrow I should be able to stitch it up and bandage instead of cauterising the wound." He did not reply verbally but he huffed in good humour. You made good work on decreasing the bleeding, it seemed to have decreased naturally since initially removing the bullet. When you cleaned away as much blood as you could you got to work on stitching the skin up. Stitching was always so satisfying, get one edge of skin to merge with the other. Eventually you had done all you could and you bandaged his leg up tight, wrapping it across his entire thigh which required you to lift up his leg. It was only then you realise how close you were to... him. Fighting away the blush you stood back to admire your work, no blood was seeping through so you had done a good job. You finally looked at Jacob, the colour back in his cheeks and noticed he was gazing unfocused at you. "Hmm? What is it Jacob?" You prompted.

"Huh?" Shaking his head he leaned forward to inspect the wound, "you have done a marvelous job - thank you." His voice was sincere as ever. 

"Hah, well it is all in a day's work," you brushed off his compliment. 

He reached a gloved hand out to your bloodied one, "honestly I cannot thank you enough for putting up with my stubbornness."

You smiled at that and squeezed his hand, "well... then you are quite welcome." He returned your smile briefly.

All too soon he retracted his hand and looked up at you earnestly, "I know that you did not charge any of my Rooks today for patching them up." You merely just raised an eyebrow at him. "But, that got me thinking... would you ever consider working for me, the Assassins?"

That caused you to suck in a sharp breath of surprise, "uh... no, I cannot say the thought ever came to my mind." You muttered in response.

He stood up and ignored your protests to have him sit back down, "we've been collecting a lot of earnings, we would pay you well."

You scoffed, "earnings from fight clubs?"

"Well we've also been taking over a lot more of Blighter territory and taking out the higher ranking Templars who, by the way, have a lot of money." He raised an eyebrow at you.

There was that word again, "Templars? Henry has never told me about them, are they a new gang syndicate?"

His voice turned bitter, "God I wish. No, they are the mortal enemy to the Assassins I guess you could say. We have been fighting each other for centuries, they seek their own means of power for control. The man who runs the scum of this city, Crawford Starrick as you'll know him by, is a Templar."

"Huh... so this Assassin thing is much more serious than I thought," you muttered aloud. 

He smiled slightly, "indeed." There was a long pause for awhile before he spoke up again, "at least think on my proposition." 

You nodded once, "that I can promise you Jacob." Feeling the blood cake up on your hands you decided you needed to get home and wash up. "As much as I would love to see a tour of your train, I am afraid I need to go home to clean up."

Jacob jumped back a little, examining you for the first time, "oh, yes, both you and your clothes are substantially covered in my blood... apologies," he said sheepishly.

"'Tis no worries Jacob, I am used to it." It was another reason why you didn't buy the more expensive coats, sometimes the blood couldn't be washed out.


	4. Blighter Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm **so** sorry for the slow update, I started this fic in winter/mid year break and with semester two of university happening I just have not had the time to update. 
> 
> So if you haven't already, [read my other Jacob Frye x Reader fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11407929) to fill the void in between updates (it's complete, 35k words)!

"Ma'am please, the wound will-" You were rudely interrupted by your patient.

"No! I don't want you near me, you lot cause more harm then good!" The injured woman scurried off before you could collect your wits.

Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose, being a nurse was often very difficult. Many citizens refused the help of doctors, rarely ever seeking them out because doctors did still believe in old renaissance traditions, such as bleeding. Hospitals were also ineffective, mainly used as a place the poor went to die. Medical knowledge was so restricted and the prejudice against the poor meant most doctors and nurses would not even bother to try help them, only using their best medical skills for the social elites. It was unfair. The poor in the workhouses were treated as criminals and even if they would accept your help you could not get though the threshold because of the landlords, or Blighters in London's case. 

All in all, today had been a frustrating day. After once again failing entry into the biggest workhouse in Southwark you came across an sick woman, coughing dangerously so, and yet she ran off. Jacob's proposition sat in your mind, it had been a few days since he offered for you to work with him... to work with these... Assassins. You were hesitant, you did not want your time to be solely focused on his Rooks, you also wanted to aid the citizens. Thinking back on it, all Rooks took your aid without hesitation - the same could not be said for all citizens. Though it did help that you only had the name of a nurse, most citizens were more trusting of nurses over doctors as nurses did not have the right to do such things as bleeding people. 

"Love, you look as if younare going to have a brain aneurysm," a familiar voice came from your right. 

Your lips twitched up in a ghost of a smile, "oh, I would _hope_ it would take more than just a stressful day to trigger such a thing." You smiled as you turned to him, his presence had oddly lifted your mood. 

He smiled brightly back at you, "and what undue stress are you referring to?"

You scoffed, "oh, this stress is with reason." Thinking back onto today's events made you sigh, smile deflating with it. "The citizens of London still refuse my help, though my name is more famous in suburbs up north - and they trust me there - it appears many are still weary of doctors, well I guess nurses too." 

He frowned, "but you would never put someone's life in danger."

Chewing your lip you took a moment to reply, "yes, but you cannot blame them, especially those within these poorer districts. Medical knowledge is limited, we know nothing on how to treat cholera or those other ghastly diseases. The richer districts just send those infected to these poor suburbs... no wonder they fear us." The frown on your face seemed as if it was etched in stone. 

Jacob clucked his tongue, "well, we just need to get your name out there, like with Miss Nightingale. Many trust her, they can learn to trust you and your methods too." 

Your eyes lit up at that, "you know, I have been considering your proposition, though I have a question." He motioned with his hand for you to continue, "my attention would not be solely focused on your Rooks would it - I still need to help those citizens that I can?"

Jacob huffed out a short breath, "of course I would not pull you away from those who actually want your help. However, it would just be nice for myself and my Rooks to know we have someone qualified enough to look out for us too." _Look out for them? Hardly. They are the ones protecting London._ You chewed your lip in thought. "Though of course it has only been a few days, I need not require an answer from you so soon," he added honestly. 

Sighing in relief you smiled at him timidly, "I will let you know within the fortnight of my decision, Jacob."

Jacob laughed, "well, I'm off - got Templars to kill and all that." He was eyeing the height of the building next to yourselves. 

"Farewell Jacob," you replied and with that he used his rope launcher to disappear from your sights, you could not even see him on the roof he scaled. How was he always so quick and quiet... well, when he wanted to be. It was getting dark in an hour anyway, it would be wise to set off for your home now. You opted to take the omnibus to Sourthwark as it was not too far a ride from your central home, so you obviously had to take another one back. Not that many went much further south than this. Only waiting for less than five minutes the omnibus had arrived, though to your discomfort it was very full. Two men dressed head to toe in black opted to sit up the top, though they weren't waiting with you so you wondered where they appeared from. 

Though you did not have to wait very long for the bus itself the same could not be said for the ride home, the omnibus having to take multiple stops and overall it was a just a slow carriage. Maybe you should have walked. No matter, you certainly were not in a rush to go to your lonely apartment. Unluckily for you the nearest stop by your home was two blocks away and the blocks of central London were not small by any means. You were tired and grumpy, you just wanted to get home and warm your feet by your fireplace. It was not until your rounded onto the second block you saw the two men in black trailing behind you. Their distance was not close but it put you on guard. Putting more vigor into your steps you pushed through the crowds, you could not shake the feeling these two men were following you. _Maybe I'm just paranoid, a lot of people travel to the central suburbs,_ you thought. A quick glance over your shoulder showed no indication of the men. You sighed in relief and all but ran across the street into the gates of your complex.

The first thing you did was put the kettle on then retreat to your room to take your hair out of the now messy bun, the pins had been giving you a mild headache. In the middle of taking out your pins the kettle whistled, you groaned as you went to take it off of the element, still tugging at the stubborn clips in your hair as you went. Before you even made it to the kitchen's threshold the whistling suddenly stopped, which in turn made you stop in your own tracks. _Did I just imagine its whistling?_ You frowned, that couldn't be it. Hands still tangled in your hair you rounded the corner and into the kitchen only to gasp in shock at what you saw in front of you, arms falling deftly to your sides. The pin that had been in your mouth clicked onto the tiled floors.

A man in black stood at your stove, holding the kettle. There was only one part of him that was not completely decked in black, the white band on his left sleeve that had a giant red cross on it. "Ah, nurse [L/N], it is finally good we've been able to track you down," his voice was falsely cheery.

At the mention of 'we' you turned your head to look out into the living room adjacent to the kitchen, sure enough the other man who was on the bus was lounging in the love-seat. You whipped your attention back to the man in front of you, he had now placed the kettle on the counter. "The hell are you doing in my home?!" You demanded. "I will contact the police," you warned in a stern voice. Thankfully your voice did not waver, did not show an inch of the fear that wracked your body. 

He stepped closer to you, arms spread out as if trying to soothe a scared dog, "no need for that. We're just here on business, we just want your skills as a nurse is all - no harm will come to you." 

You took a step back at his advancement, "well, I do not do business with strange men who break into my home," you spat. 

The man on the love-seat got up, his footsteps heavy as he made his way over to the kitchen. They had you cornered. "Well, you see 'ere love, it wasn't really up for negotiation. Rumours 'ave it you're the best nurse we've got around London." He pulled out a rag and a bottle from his coat, "although there seems to be no need for us to bring our own chloroform - you've got plenty about," he shrugged as he poured the pungent liquid into the white rag, "oh well." 

Before you could scramble away the other man pined your wrists behind your back, it hurt painfully as he twisted your shoulders to stop your thrashing. The rag was brought to your mouth and nose, properly smothering you. You tried you damnedest not to breathe it in but your damn lungs gave up sooner than you thought they would. Succumbing to the darkness was the last thing you remembered.

* * * *

You awoke groggily as to be expected after a run-in with chloroform. Groaning you slowly lift your head from the soft surface, rubbing your eyes as you sat up right you realised you were lying on a bed, the blanket beneath you was thin and scratchy. The room was light, had a big window but it was bared off from the outside.

"Finally! You're awake!" The deep voice boomed from in front of you, a man was situated in a chair, leaning his forearms on his spread knees. "Thought you would never come about."

Rubbing the last of sleep from your eyes you snared at him, "wish I had not. Being stuck in eternal darkness is better than whatever the hell you have your men have dragged me into."

The man stood up, hands up as if in surrender. He had a ridiculous black mustache that curled upwards on the ends, looked as if he should be in a circus. Sizing him up he looked no older than you, twenty three years old if you had to guess. "I understand it was not the most orthodox of methods but you're not one to work for people, you never have."

That made a shiver go up your spine, "and how long have you been spying on me?" 

He huffed a mangled laugh, "not that long honestly, we didn't even know of your existence until yesterday. One of our Blighters here saw you tending to those blasted Rooks - and you see here we cannot have that."

You stood up to be stare him in the eye, "ever heard of the Hippocratic Oath? I save people because it is my job, I do not care who they are." You jabbed a finger at his sternum for good measure. 

He scoffed and turned away from you, "yet I haven't heard of you patching up my men." When he turned on his heel to look at you his smirk was nothing but devilish, "but... let bygones be bygones." He extended a hand out to you, "George Kempton, head Templar of the central city of London."

Pointedly you looked at his hand, refusing to shake it, "I would introduce myself but you already know who I am."

His smile did not falter as he lowered his hand at your rejection. He too had that white arm band with the bright red cross imprint. "Well let's get to work, I have men for you to patch up." He turned to leave, hand on the doorknob before you spoke up.

"And what makes you think I will do anything in my power to help aid your men?" You wanted to scream at the man, hit him even. But you knew that would be unwise. 

Without turning back at you he replied evenly, "because if you do not you will die here." He turned the doorknob and swung the door open to a seemingly vacant hallway.

Balling your hands into fists you really saw no other option, escape would be impossible as you were no fighter, and given the fact this seemed to be some kind of stronghold you would be vastly outnumbered. Admitting defeat you sighed and followed him, "do I at least have the proper tools to help your men?" Your voice echoed off of the walls as you both briskly walked down the well-lit hallway. You remained ever so slightly behind him, which made you feel a little safer. He walked with his hands behind his back, which puzzled you as it was what most butlers did.

He hummed, "of course, you might even find some new toys to have fun with." You could hear the smirk in his voice.

He abruptly stopped at a giant mahogany door, pulling a door open and motioning for you to enter first, which you did. There was no point in being stubborn, you would probably get retaliation. The room was scattered with men and woman in red clothing and they all looked worse for wear. "Fellow Blighters, this is nurse [L/N] and she is here to tend to your wounds. She will go around the room clockwise so have patience." He leaned down to your level so his mouth was by your ear, it took every ounce of your will not to flinch away. "I will return in two hours, the door will be unlocked but you are in a room full of Blighters. I trust you will not do anything rash." And with that he pulled away, slamming the giant door behind him.

You looked out onto the weary faces staring at you, time to get to work. 

* *

When Kempton came back you were cleaning up the blood from your hands, there weren't actually that many men and women to tend to, at least not yet. Thankfully only one man had a broken bone, the rest were either gunshot or knife wounds. You were escorted back to your room and given a meal, though it tasted like nothing and was not particularly all that filling. It had gotten dark hours ago but you could not find sleep, you had been staring at the ceiling. You were scared and afraid. Though this seemed like it was going to be your daily routine you knew it could be worse, but you were still a prisoner. There were people - good people - outside these walls who needed your help and you were stuck here. You wondered if Jacob would notice your disappearance. _Don't be daft, the man barely knows you._ Still, he did want an answer from you within the fortnight. Though even _if_ he did noticed your disappearance, you barely knew each other, he has plenty of other, more important things to worry about.


	5. The Willow Trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a shorter chapter, but it didn't feel right to split it into two.
> 
> Also, pls give[ my other Jacob Frye x Reader fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11407929) some love.
> 
> Oh, and this chapter is Jacob's point of view.

It had been a few days since Jacob had last seen a certain nurse, though that was not uncommon for the two of them but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Even when they went almost weeks without bumping into each other Jacob would hear wind of her fixing up his Rooks... that has not happened in the past five days.  


So, here Jacob was, at the gate to her housing complex. He was hesitant whether or not he should do this, they were not strangers anymore but he would not go as far to say they were more than just acquaintances. Regardless, his worry overtook his doubt and he pushed the gate open. The complex building was in the shape of a U, a plethora of trees dotting the courtyard and a fountain right in the centre. The complex was a total of six attached terraced homes, each two storeys tall. It was nice, especially for a nurse who lived on her own. Jacob's hand paused just as he was about to knock on the door he knew was hers, _what if she did not live alone - she never said she was married but she also didn't say she was single._ He shook his head, he would come up with an excuse as to why he was here - he just needed to check she was alright. Before he could second guess himself again he rapped on her door, only to receive no answer. Frowning he stepped back to eye the scale of the building, oddly enough one of her top windows was left open a crack. Either she did not hear him knock or there is indeed something amiss. Checking over his shoulder that no one was in the courtyard with him he scaled the building, slipping into the window easy enough. The room he entered seemed to be that of her master bedroom, her medical supply bag sitting on her vanity. Jacob dared to have a look inside and saw bloodied up tools, except the blood had dried. That was unlike her, she always cleaned her tools as soon as she could. "[Y/N]?" He called out loudly.  


No response. He quickly searched each room of the house, she was not to be found anywhere. Downstairs in the living room he noticed a book on the floor next to the love seat, it was open and bending some of the pages. He picked it up and inspected her large bookshelf that covered the far, smaller wall. All her books were in pristine condition, no dog-eared pages, only a few with creased spines. She would not discard a book on the floor like this. He placed the book - which he noted was also a favourite of his _A Tale of Two Cities_ \- back into the missing slot. Using his Vision he saw very faint tracks leading from the love seat to the kitchen, they certainly were not the same size as [Y/N]'s feet. Panicked he stalked into the kitchen and he saw there were three separated pairs of feet, though very faded he could see only one of them was hers. Her tracks did not go with the other two pairs of feet, it was as if she was carried. Unfortunately the trail was so old the tracks dissipated by the time he reached the end of the hallway. A dead end.  


[Y/N] was not here. Someone had taken her. Jacob's blood boiled and her clenched his fists in a vain attempt to control his anger. She was just a selfless nurse, who would have a vendetta against her? Gathering himself he sighed and rubbed his temples, he would have to ask around to see if anyone had seen where she went. Before leaving he decided to test the front door, it was open, the deadbolt unlocked. Well since he climbed through the window he could get out the same way, so he locked the door, he did not want her to get robbed after all.  


Back in the shady courtyard Jacob recalled she had once mentioned there were children living in the complex, he figured to start there since urchins often saw things adults were oblivious to. Choosing a neighbouring house at random he knocked on the door and was met with a maid, "can I help you sir?"  


Jacob cleared his throat, "I was just wondering if you have seen Miss [L/N] lately, her apartment seems to be vacant."  


The maid closed the door an inch, "and to whom is it I am speaking to?"  


"I am a friend of hers, Jacob Frye," he didn't bother to stick his hand out in greeting.  


The maid shook her head, "I'm sorry sir but I do not know anything of her-"  


She was cut off by a young boy poking his head around her waist, "miss [L/N]?" He asked Jacob earnestly. "A few days ago I saw two men carry her into a carriage, they were in quite a rush I assumed she was ill!"  


The maid tried to scold and shoo him away, "show some manners and do not interrupt!"  


"No, it's quite alright," Jacob turned his attention back to the boy, "what did the men look like - what about the carriage?" He inquired.  


The boy stood up more proudly, not cowering behind the maid, "they were in black sir, with red crosses on their arms. The carriage was just like any other red carriage around."  


Jacob grit his teeth together harshly, goddamn Templars. "Don't suppose you saw which way the went off to?"  


"No, sir, the willow trees and the huge fence block most of the road from view, sorry," he looked down at his hands.  


"Well, thank you both for your assistance, I shan't take up anymore of your time," and with that Jacob bowed his head and all but ran onto the street. His Vision showed no signs of carriage tracks, unfortunately. But he had a lead and with the help of his Rooks he _would_ get an answer by nightfall. He and his Rooks had taken half of Blighter territory in central London, though he knew of a gang stronghold not too far that he could go to get his answers from.  


* *  


"Alright, so if you value your life you are going to answer a few questions for me," he pointed the end of his cane sword at the throat of the Templar leader of this stronghold. Taking it from the Blighters had been an easy task, he even burned some of their plans, the only one who was left alive at the moment was the leader.  


The Templar frowned, "this is what I get for being put in charge of Blighters - I should be working with the other Templars!"  


Jacob rolled his eyes, "yes, well if you want to talk about this to your superiors you are going to have to answer my questions." He pushed the cane sword closer to the Templar's neck, enough so that it made tangible contact with the skin there.  


The Templar gulped comically, "alright, alright!"  


"I know that two Templars have taken nurse [F/N] [L/N] and I wanted to know where," his voice was stern.  


"Oh that old bird-" Jacob put more pressure on the cane sword, "-myself and one of my associates were told to bring her in."  


Jacob pressed the sword in again, enough to draw some blood, "so you took her - where?!"  


Inching off as far as he could the Templar took a moment to answer, "if I tell you they will kill me."  


Jacob stared back at him blankly, "luckily for you she is of importance to me, you have a chance of living if you tell me where she is!"  


"The hideout in Waterloo! They've got her their as a resident nurse for the Blighters! I swear on the Father of Understanding that is true!" The Templar looked absolutely terrified.  


With reason. Such a serious oath, Jacob had no reason to doubt he was speaking truthfully. So he did not hesitate to plunge the cane sword into his neck.  


Now he had a location.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's a bit too much plot lmao.


	6. Deliverance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update :(

The Waterloo hideout was surprisingly well maintained, a beautiful old building with high stained glass windows, yellowing faded bricks and surrounded by birch trees. It was a hideout with no regular patrol routine, Blighters and Templars came and went as they went, but always in groups and usually injured. That was the difference between Templar hideouts and the strongholds, the hideouts we not places of accommodation but a hidden base of operations, and obviously a place to temporarily patch up the injured Blighters. No obvious patrol routine would make infiltration all the more harder to be discrete. Jacob could not exactly go in by himself, he had a large ego but he knew where his limits were. 

So, here he was perched on the roof the hideout, well out of sight thanks to the trees and high brick wall that surrounded the roof, waiting to see a group of Rooks he had commandeered arrive in a stolen carriage. The plan was simple, he and his Rooks fought a group of Blighters and took their uniforms to disguise themselves as injured Blighters and walk straight into the hideout. If he could, he would join him, but his face was too recognisable. He would tack them using his Vision, luckily the hideout was a small one, only two stoerys high so it would not be hard to lose sight of him, they would secure Jacob a route of entry by any means necessary (the plan was the end of the east hallway as it seemed entirely deserted at all times). The hard bit would be getting his favourite nurse out without any harm befalling her, or loosing one of his Rooks. Still, his Rooks knew the odds before they agreed to join him, he had a group of five so what he lacked in numbers he would have to make up for in his own set of skills. He could not afford to make a single mistake. Simple.

He briefly chuckled to himself, the plan in theory was simple, the execution itself was going to be the hard part. Jacob instantly sobered up as he heard arguments at the front gate, his Rooks had arrived. "-listen mate, we may not work around here in The Strand but we were on our way to check out the Waterloo station as instructed by our boss back in Central. Only thing is, we ran into those damn Rooks so excuse me for knocking on your door because myself and my men don't fancy bleeding out to our own hideout in Central!" Rusty was one of Jacob's favourite Rooks, he was brute and used his size to get work done. A reliable man but not exactly a people person. 

"Alright, alright go on through for fuck's sake! The infirmary is the first door on the left as you walk in - giant doors you can't miss it, you wanker." The Blighter at the gate seemed equally as charming as Rusty. 

Tracking his Rooks with his Vision was easy enough, he saw four of his men go towards the infirmatry as one split off towards the east hallway. As luck would have it, the Blighters and Templars were either upstairs in cahoots or downstairs being attended to by his lovely nurse. Jacob grit his teeth just thinking of it, those bloody miscrents quite literally kidnapped her from her own life. Letting out an agitated sigh he followed to where the lone Rook was prying open a window - something Jacob could not do due to the fact all windows has a locking system that could not be opened from the outside (he'd tried it). It was not the first time that day that Jacob was grateful for the leafy birch trees and the tall brick fences that lined the property, he was able to scale down to the first floor window with discretion. 

"Ready for this, boss?" Eliza greeted him as he slipped through the window.

He smirked at her, "are you?"

"Well we're already bloodied up, what's a little more blood stains gonna do?" She smirked back with no trace of unease. 

* * * *

Your day had been like any other, get up out of your scratchy bed as the sun rose, eat a pathetic excuse for porridge and head out to the infirmary to patch up the sick and injured Blighters. Oh was it ever a bore. You longed for fresh air that belonged only when you were truly outside, not the incessant whistling you got from the wind blowing through the bars on your window whenever you opened it. You longed for your bathtub back home, it was a big and deep, the one here was not. You longed to see friendly faces again, to help those who actually deserved it, you even longed to see that ridiculous smile of Jacob's. You wanted nothing more than to get back to him, he had made a great impact on your life, at least in terms of loneliness. Your work did not allow you to have much of a social life, he was probably your only friend you saw regularly. 

The loud creak of the oh-so-hated doors roused you from your thoughts, pulling your attention away from the tools you were currently cleaning. Four Blighters walked in, all bloody and in need of patching up, you frowned at them in biased hatred. Yes, many were nice to you, but you knew who they worked for - they could work with Jacob and better London but they decide not to. It is hard not to naturally hold a grudge against all of them. However, you still had a job to do, lest you die instead. 

The brute approached first, a very familiar elite right behind him. The elite was very familiar, you felt as if you had met him before but you could not place where or how. 

Before you could put anymore thought into the matter the brute gruffly sat down on the chair to your right, the three Blighters looking over at those who were sleeping or resting in the cots on the other side of the room. The brute leaned over to you, his voice hushed, "listen lass, we aren't actually here for your services-" you pointedly raised an eyebrow at his bleeding forearm "-well not right now. We relive you best come with us." You stiffened at that, it sounded like a threat. 

The elite looked as if he were about to interject, but before he could the giant doors slammed open with a loud bang and entered another bloodied Blighter - except she was absolutely covered in it - and "Jacob?" You stood up quickly at the sight of him, "what-" You were cut off Jacob spinning around to kill an oncoming Templar.

The four Blighters that had come into the room - though you were not sure of their identity anymore - sprang into action, the Blighters on the other side of the room had been awoken by the noise and those who could stand were trying to stumble out of their cots. Needless to say they did not make it very far.

You were harshly grabbed by the right bicep, the elite was dragging you out of the room and into the entryway where Jacob and the female Blighter - Rook? - were fighting off three Templars, "come this way Miss [L/N]!" The elite was hastily rushing you through the front door, you briefly made eye contact with Jacob as you past him - worry thick in your eyes. He simply nodded at you before you were yanked out of his sight. 

The guard at the gate barely got a strangled gargle out before the elite stabbed him through his windpipe, "sorry you have to see all this Miss, but we could not think of another way." He directed you to a beaten up red Blighter carriage, one they had probably stolen to get here. 

"So are you one of Jacob's Rooks?" You asked as he all but shoved you into the carriage.

"Yes ma'am - please sit tight, we may be followed," and with that he hopped into the driver's seat and snapped on the reins. Where he was taking you, you did not know. But within a block or so onwards you saw another red carriage quickly approaching from behind. Knuckles whitening as you tightend your grip on the seat, you prepared for impact. What you did not prepare for was to be thrown to the left side of the carriage, the elite had swerved out of the way. However, this did not deter your pursuers, eventually they were able to match your speed and you were currently staring into the empty carriage next to you. The carriages made a terrible scraping noise as they collided, you were again thrown to the left side of the carriage, hitting your head on the door. Through the pulsating ringing in your ears you could hear gunshots, it sounded muffled and far away as if distorted by water. You tried to focus on what was around you but your vision was blurred, head spinning you felt completely adrift. Taking in a deep breath you tried to regain your focus, you were in a carriage travelling at dangerously high speeds trying to outrun the people who had kidnapped you. Right. 

Slowly you opened your eyes and managed to see the elite's arm poking out in the window, he had a revolver in his hand and was aiming at the Blighters in the carriage next to you, well Blighter - he had taken out the passenger that had been next to the driver, the spot now vacant. It was one on one. The ringing in your ears slowly subsided only to be taken over by a pounding headache, but you did not allow yourself to loose focus to what was going on. Trying your best to see what was ahead through the small window made you clutch onto the seat with all your might once again. There was stand-still traffic again with no sidewalks to bypass on. One way or another you would come to a screeching halt. 

Sure enough your carriage came to a halt, collisions avoided by both you and your pursuer. With nowhere to go with the carriage the elite wasted no time dismounting his seat to face the Blighter face on. He carelessly tossed his revolver aside and resulted to hand combat, with a dagger of some kind. The Blighter was easily as skilled, they seemed at an equal match. Momentarily taking your eyes off of the fight you took in your surroundings, you were literally wedged in among the Waterloo station traffic. Looking back to the fight you decided this was your moment to use the left door of the carriage and slip away, perhaps the train station had been the plan, you knew Jacob had a train that could wait at stations. With no better ideas you decided to act. Luckily the left carriage door did not squeak as you opened it and you were able to slip in between carriages onto the footpath. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you approached the station's entrance. 

Which, admittedly, was rather stupid; you were not in the clear yet. You heard your last name being screeched from the abandoned carriages, looking over your shoulder you saw the Blighter looming over the dead elite Rook and making direct eye contact with you.

You ran. 

"Move!" You yelled imperatively as you pushed your way through the dense sea of people in the staircase. It was futile as there was just simply too many people and your voice could barely be heard overhead. You could feel the Blighter's eyes boring into your back, which only had you pushing and shoving even harder to fight through the crowd. Finally you scrambled your way up the stairs and into the slightly less dense crowd of people in the station. Desperately you searched for anyone dressed in green, or a hooded figure, yet you could see none. Your hesitation was your downfall, you felt yourself being violently jerked by your left forearm backwards, it hurt all the way up to your neck. You screamed for help, but this in turn just made people scream and run in the other direction. You had seen this before, someone in red hurting either a citizen or someone in green and the public would turn a blind eye and flee. The Blighter shoved you further into the dismantled crowd, something you used to your advantage and used the momentum to twist out of his grasp. 

With the crowds thinning out because of them fleeing you were able to make your way to the train platforms, you could see the familiar sleek black train on the second platform. This time you did not stop to look, but it did not change anything as the Blighter caught up to once more. Again you screamed for help and again the public fled. "Miss [L/N] you have been rather difficult, so much so I am instructed not to spare you life," the Blighter was mere inches from your face, his teeth were yellow and stained and you could see blatant bloodlust in his eyes. His face was covered in drying blood, he seemed to have made no attempts to wipe it from his face.

Hitting him on the chest with your free hand did nothing to budge him, "let me go! I'm just a nurse!" Try as you might you could not escape his vice-tight grip now. 

"Tsk tsk, you were our nurse but then you disobeyed..." he held a jaggered knife to your throat, "and we just can't have-" he was cut off with a sudden gurgle of blood trickling out of his mouth, blood which soaked your blouse. 

The Blighter went limp and dropped to the ground, revealing a worried and bloodied Jacob behind where he had been. You heard the distinct metallic sound of Jacob's hidden blade being sheathed. Jacob's eyes were wide with worry... you dare say he even looked scared. "Oh god, love," his voice wavered. Pulling you away from the body he embraced you tightly, one hand cradling the base of your head. "Are you alright?"

There were tears brimming in your eyes so you did not trust yourself to answer verbally, so you nodded in response. But you could not help the sob the escaped as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. 

Before you could weep into his jacket he pulled back to put his hands on the sides of your face, wiping away the silent tears, "darling, let's get on the train first, yeah?" There was still worry in his eyes, his eyebrows creased with worry too.

Again, you only nodded in response. 

At least you felt safe now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write more for this chapter... but I was already way over my usual word count for each chapter. Oh, also there aren't hideouts (asides from the Frye train) in the game, you only liberate strongholds. Like, I always wondered where Starrick lived... because it looked cool in those cut scenes of his.


	7. Amiable Ministrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went 1k words over my usual limit... woops.

The train had started its departure from Waterloo station once you got comfortable in Jacob's couch. He did not join you, no, instead he knelt down in front of you with his eyebrows turned up slightly in worry. "Are you hurt?" His voice was quieter than usual. You noticed he did not have his top hat on.

Tentatively he reached his right hand out to the back of your knee, his fingertips gently brushing against the fabric of your trousers. Jacob was acting so timidly, so gently you could not help the small half smile from forming as you answered his question. "Asides from a few bruises and scrapes I am fine Jacob. Truly, I would have been in a worse off state if it was not for your men." 

He leaned closer towards you, you had to put your crossed legs to one side as he brought his right hand to your face, the backs of his fingers brushing against your jaw. His creamy hazel eyes were searching for any sign on injury on your face, his eyebrows knitting together once he saw the bruise that was most likely forming on your left cheek. "We could have been more delicate... could have found another way to get you out of there," you could hear the disappointment in his voice. 

Deftly you sighed aloud before grabbing Jacob's hand with your own, though his hand did not leave your face as you did so. "Jacob-" you tightened your grip on his hand briefly to get him to look you in the eye. It worked. "-were it not for you I would have lived out my days as a slave for corrupt men... if it were not for you I would have died back in the station, among a sea of disheartened citizens." 

The hazel eyes left yours, he pulled his hand away from your face but did not disentangle it from yours. Both of his substantially larger hands were encapsulating your much smaller ones, you noticed he had a small little fond smile as he looked at the entwined hands on your lap. "Sure you want to help those citizens anymore?" He tried to sound blasé but there was an undertone of seriousness to his words. 

In wholeheartedness you scoffed lightly, "unfortunately that would put me out of a job... besides I will be working for the boss of the Rooks and patching up the men of women who put there life on the line to save this once-great city." Your voice was nonchalant, you even shrugged when Jacob looked back up at you. He seemed as if he was in disbelief. "...well that is if the offer still stands." 

Quickly he moved from his crouched position to the space next to you on the couch, his hands still entangled in yours, though he brought them closer to himself as he moved. "Please, [Y/N] do not think you owe me anything, I... I did not save you from those red bastards in the hopes that you would come work for me... I saved you because I have come to care for you greatly." Jacob was heavily focused at not looking at you in the eye. 

You hummed, "I know as much Jacob, you are a man of compassion, not power. Never once did I think during my recuse did I think it was for your own gain." 

He looked up at you at that so you smiled earnestly at him. 

Shaking his head he huffed out a laugh a stood up, "alright, love. That is probably the most flattering thing I have heard come out of your mouth." He raised an eyebrow up at you. 

You were going to say something sarcastic in response, but from this angle you could see a bleeding cut on his throat, nothing scary but bleeding nonetheless. Standing up to inspect you quickly got your hands on his neck to inspect the wound, "and how injured are _you_ , Jacob?" You now raised an eyebrow at him. 

The bastard smirked at you, "oh about the same as you." He gestured to your inner-right forearm. The sleeve was covered in blood. You hadn't even noticed, surprisingly, the crimson blood stood out starkly against your steel grey coat. 

Jacob saw you frowning at your arm. "Aright, sit down and let's have a look at it." 

He gave you little choice in the matter, placing both his hands on your shoulders he all but pushed you down into the couch. Deciding it would be easier to just comply with him, you shucked off your jacket and held out your injured arm towards him. He looked at you questioningly. "You went 20 years patching yourself up and asides from those two _distinguishable_ scars on your face, you're still standing here. So, I figured you must know a thing or two." Smug smirk on your face you raised your eyebrow challenging at him. 

A smirk he graciously returned, "you humble me, love." He remained standing as he gently held onto your arm his ministrations were as careful as could be, it was nice to see this side of him and not his usual brutish and tactile side. The familiar sting of the antiseptic burned at your exposed skin, there was very little bleeding since it was a shallow cut therefore Jacob was able to bandage it shortly after ensuring it was properly cleaned. Since the cut was long enough to almost wrap around your forearm this meant that Jacob had to wrap the bandage around you arm to ensure he got all of the cut's surface area. Whilst he was doing that you noticed that the safety pin he would use to bind your bandage in place was clasped between his lips. With his eyebrows knitted together in concentration it was an endearing look on him, you could not help but smile at him. Once done he looked back at you, crooked smile on his face as he stepped closer to you. "It is rather odd being the one to patch you up for once," his voice was thick with smugness. 

Your earnest smile changed into a smirk and you quickly stood up to be face-to-face with him. _Well more or less, damn him for being taller._ He had not expected your abruptness, his eyebrows shot up in surprise, but only momentarily as he realised your face was mere inches from his own and his smirk reappeared just as quickly as it had vanished. "Not quite." Before he could respond you forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder, switching your positions and shoving him into the couch. He sat down with a surprised huff and you took advantage of this momentary confusion to stand in between his spread legs, getting as close to him as you could. So, maybe you leaned down more than what would be necessary to inspect the wound on his neck but you could not find it in yourself to care. "I cannot have my new boss be neglected by his own nurse," you said smoothly as you craned his neck up with one index finger on his chin. Jacob gulped visibly at this, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with the motion. The cut to his neck was already dry, all it needed was a clean. "You seem a very luckily man Jacob, any deeper and it would have been a vital cut to your aorta," you said indifferently as you applied the cool anti-septic. 

Once you lowered his chin once more he looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "Or maybe I am just very good at my job." 

"The very best, some would say." Your faces were inching closer together, something you did unconsciously it was as if there was a gravitational pull between the two of you. A metallic screech yanked you both apart, you taking a few steps backwards away from the couch. The both of you frowned as you looked to the source of the noise: Evie opening the door to Jacob's cart. She was looking at something in her hands and hopefully would not have seen what you two were about it do. Either that or she was just being polite. 

Jacob groaned and threw his head onto the back of the couch. You noticed you had still left your coat on it. Evie took a look at your bloodied blouse and then to your face, "I see you are back in business then. Good." 

"Thanks to Jacob and those Rooks of his," you replied as you traced your finger along the red string on Jacob's wall of suspects. You heard Jacob get up to talk to his sister, a conversation you tuned out as soon as you turned to see the giant bookcases Jacob had in the far end of the cart. There were books of different languages, different textures in binding and a rather impressive collection of Shakespeare manuscripts. _Much Ado About Nothing_ the pages were yellowing with age but the print still remained vivid. It was your favourite play of Shakespeare's, the two lovers too stubborn and sarcastic to see that they loved each other until they were given a little push. 

You were smiling at the pages as you re-read the banter unfold between Beatrice and Benedick, a calloused hand firmly squeezed your right shoulder. "You would think it would take more than a death at a wedding to get these two stubborn fools to confess their love," you could hear the smile in Jacob's voice. 

You responded without taking your eyes off of the page, "well would they have even have fallen in love if it were not for the scheme they were played in?" Carefully you put the manuscript back before turning around to face Jacob, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder in the process. 

"Well for Don Pedro and his friends to come up with such a scheme do you not think they saw something there that Beatrice and Benedick could not?" For a conversation about literature he sure was gazing at you with full attention. 

You merely shrugged and brushed past Jacob, keeping your voice nonchalant, "I suppose your argument makes sense." Picking up your coat you inspected it for anymore blood, sadly you were certain the blood would not wash out and this would be another coat to yet be discarded. Sighing you slung it over your arm. 

The look on Jacob's face was unreadable. "Surely you know it is not wise for you to return to your home, I will not allow it." His voice was firm but not harsh. 

You rolled your eyes at him, "yes Jacob, I am aware thank you very much. But I hardly have a choice in the matter... besides I have not been in my own bed for almost a week, I miss it dearly." He looked worried again. " _And_ you have no say in what I can and cannot do." 

He sighed and briefly pinched at the bridge of his nose. "You could stay here, with me, where I can keep an eye on you." Jacob's voice was full of nothing short of earnestness. 

Smiling sadly at the ground you walked over to him, delicately placing your right hand on his cheek. "Jacob you cannot keep an eye on me for forever," silently you retracted your hand. "Besides, your couch is not the comfiest and I will not take up such little room you have." 

His eye were dropping in the corners with sadness. "Yet, I cannot, with any good conscious, let you go to your home alone." He was pleading with you. It made your heart break. 

"Then if you are so distraught come with me, I have a spare room." Admittedly, it would be very scary to go back to your home alone and having Jacob there you would feel safe. 

To your surprise Jacob huffed out a laugh, "what if I never leave-" he gestured to the couch "- like you said, the couch is not the most comfortable of surfaces." 

Despite rolling your eyes at him you could not stop the wide smile from forming on your face. "Sounds like a plan then." 

* * * * 

You expected your front door to be unlocked, your house ransacked but you were very surprised when the door would not budge open. "Huh I thought-" 

"I uh, I broke in to your house to see if you were alright," you turned around to see Jacob rubbing the back of his neck guiltily, "and I locked your door and snuck out your bedroom window - which in my defense was already unlocked." 

"Jacob I am not mad, truly, I am touched that you came looking for me." It was true, while you were in Waterloo you waited out many days wondering if Jacob even cared. 

He did not respond but you saw his mouth twitch up in a smile and he was blushing! _He looks cute flustered._

Wasting no more time you both headed upstairs, you showing Jacob were to put his clothes in the spare bedroom. You left him to it and went to inspect your own room, your bloodied tools you had left in your bag on the vanity had gone rusty. You gritted your teeth in anger - they would be expensive to replace. A curt knock on the door signaled Jacob entering. "I thought you would be putting your clothes away." 

"And I thought _you_ would be drawing yourself a bath," Jacob spread his arms out in gesture, "and yet here we are." 

Sighing you leaned against your vanity and played with your necklace, "there is a lot to process... and I do not know where to start." 

Jacob sat on the end of your bed opposite your vanity. "Start from the beginning." 

You could not look at him. "Thank you... Thank you so much, Jacob, for caring enough to come find me... over the past few months of knowing you I have come to care for you a great deal. Many nights when I have not seen you throughout the day I wonder if you are safe, if you are hurt," you tried to shrug it off but your voice was too thick with emotion to be able to brush it off as nonchalant. 

Jacob stood up then and gently placed both hands on your biceps, "oddly enough, I worry the same about you." 

You scoffed as you looked up at him, you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, "please, I have been in London longer than you." You stopped playing with you necklace to reach out and thumb the scar in his facial hair. "Be honest, did you sustain any other injuries today?" 

Like you had done to him on the train he placed a hand over your one that was on his face, "like you said, I am very good at what I do. I promise I am fine, darling." 

Your heart fluttered at the nickname. 

He pulled your hand away from your face, "I should never have dragged you into our business - offering you that job will only get you killed, I cannot allow it." He tried to pull his hand away from your just you just fastened your grip. 

" _No!_ You do not get a say in my decisions. I was helping your Rooks before they were Rooks, I have been dodging the Blighters for years. What happened in Waterloo could have happened whether you were in London or not - and I am glad it happened when you were here." Your anger deflated instantly, you were tired and did not want to fight with him. "Jacob... for years I have been alone in this city, please do not make me lonely once more." 

Jacob's brow was once more creased with worry, "but this is asking too much of you, [Y/N]." 

Annoyed you let go of his hand, "then why are you here, Jacob?" 

"Because I cannot risk you being taken again, they know where you live!" His voice was not mad but... resigned. 

"This is not my first time being threatened by Blighters! Besides, you are the most feared man in London, I doubt they would bother again. The order was to kill me, so I cannot have been _that_ much use to them." You rubbed up and down Jacob's left forearm reassuringly, "and I've been thinking of moving to The Strand anyway." 

That got a huff out of him, "I suppose there is no changing your stubborn mind?" The worry had gone from his face. Absently he brushed away a stray hair form your face, the backs of his fingers lingering gently over your bruise. 

You pushed yourself off of the vanity which made you press flush against Jacob. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath ghosting on your lips. "Right you are, boss." 

You were not sure who closed the gap but your lips finally found one another. His lips were warm and inviting, slightly dry but not unpleasantly so, in fact it gave you the slight friction you had desired. The kiss was sweet, simply two people meeting together. His hands came up to frame your face and you took this opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to come down onto your level, _seriously curse that extra inch he had on you_. Jacob took a firm hold of your face and slowly parted from your lips to get some air, only momentarily. He guided your head to a different angle so he could kiss you deeper, more passionately. A kiss so heated it warmed you to your toes. Your heart felt as if it were going erratic. You opted to run a hand through the hair on the back of his head, it was soft and silky as you had imaged it would be. You had always pegged Jacob as a good groomer, asides from his un-tucked shirts he took great pride in his appearance, and rightly so. Your bottom lip was starting to swell up with the attentions Jacob was administering, not that you minded in the slightest. So, in retaliation you pulled back just enough to nibble at his bottom lip. The act made Jacob break the kiss and instead he broke into a wide smile, which in turn made you smile. You both tried to kiss again but it was hard to kiss when both fools were smiling ear to ear. Jacob's laughter quickly became a favourite sound of yours.


	8. Morning Dew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves! I am _so_ sorry for taking so long to update. Months back my laptop stopped charging (two days before I had a 3.5k word essay due!) and I sent it for repairs, it was fixed temporarily but broke again so I had to wait until summer break until I'd be back at my mum's house to send it back to the manufacturer. It took ages to get it back. So, along with not having access to my laptop I was also spending October and November studying for exams and packing for my trip back home for the summer break and I've been working since the start of the year at the hospital so I've been a busy bee! Thank you to all who have been patient in waiting! xo

Jacob being the gentleman he was stayed in the guest bedroom overnight, the both of you not wanting to rush into things just as it began. The sun filtering through the gap in the curtains is what awoke you and given the low angle of the sun, barely over the nieghbour's rooftop, you would guess it was rather early in the morning. Blinking the sleep from your eyes you sat up straight as you yawned and stretched, absently thinking if Jacob would still be asleep or if he had slipped off in the night to attend to his duties. The slim stream of sunlight pouring into your room and the room alight in a cool tone. It was definitely early morning, seven a.m. if you wagered. Deciding a hot cup of tea would wake you up properly you promptly got out of bed. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen downstairs as you normally would, you tiptoed toward the spare room Jacob was staying in. You debated whether or not to knock on his door but thought against it, after yesterday he was probably very tired. Leaning slightly closer to the door you craned your neck so you could try to hear any noise from the room before a pair of hands softly gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to yelp out in surprise. Jacob chuckled, "peeping Tom are we this morning?" You let out a sigh of relief as you turned around to see who it was. He was smiling his wide, toothy grin at you.

"Bloody hell, Jacob, you could have put me into cardiac arrest!" There was no malice in your voice of course. You were caught off guard by him only wearing his sleeping trousers, his chest exposed to the brisk morning air. Before you could say anything else Jacob lowered himself and hauled you onto his left shoulder as if you were a sack of flour. You laughed as he did so. "Oi! What do you think you are doing mister?" 

You could hear the smile in Jacob's voice as he answered, "taking you down to the kitchen so I can give you up a cup of tea. I was going to have a second one anyway so the kettle will b boiled soon." He was careful going down the staircase, as to not jostle you too much.

"Second? What is the time - how long have you been up?" You were a little perplexed, Jacob did not seem like the morning type... then again he was an Assassin.

He scoffed, "it is about half seven in the morning, a little late for a nurse to be rising don't you think so?" 

You kicked him in the thigh, "a self employed nurse can rise at time she wills thank you very much!" He huffed out a laugh as he plonked you down onto a kitchen counter top. He had both hands on the counter top on each side of your thighs, effectively trapping you and trapping himself between your thighs. The sun coming through the kitchen window was casting a golden flecks through his irises. You simply smiled as you ran an index finger along his jaw, pulling him closer. "Positively dreamy," you murmured before giving him a soft kiss. 

His lips tugged upwards against yours into a smile, pulling back just enough to talk, "the same could be said about you, love." Jacob pulled back entirely to divert his attention to the whistling kettle on the stove. It was such a warming domestic sight, the morning sun rays pouring into the kitchen and onto Jacob's profile. 

It was then you realised how hungry you were and hopped off of the counter, wrapping your arms around Jacob's chest. "How about I fix us up a proper English breakfast." 

Jacob was stirring the tea in both mugs as he replied, "sounds perfect, hon."

You smiled against his shoulder blades, pressing a kiss in between them, "then move out of the way you oaf!" You said as you pinched him in the sides.

He barked out a laugh but did no protest, moving himself and the mugs of tea to the dining room table. Jacob simply picked up where he left off in a book he had plucked out of your bookshelf as he waiting, cup of tea piping hot as he sipped on it. You could get used to this. 

* * * * 

Given the saddening reality of what had happened to you yesterday regarding being attacked in outright public, and no citizens coming to your aid, you decided to take a day off. If the citizens of London were going to turn a blind eye to such events you surely deserved a day off. Jacob even took a day off to join you, though this would mean he would have to arise before daybreak tomorrow to catch up on his work. London was a city that never slept after all. The nice weather persisted all day but given the exhaustion from yesterday (mostly on your part, Jacob did deal with that kind of stuff every other day) you two were content not to do anything in particular other than enjoy the sun rays outside. Though you were supposed to be taking a day off of work you were flipping through a medical book from Dr. Pierce, an American doctor who talked about antiseptics. There was such limited knowledge on curing infections, his book being the only thing that offered other remedies outside of alcohol. His book is why you stock up on such things as white vitriol, though you still felt as if it was not truly as effective as you desired. Before your eyebrows could furrow any further in concentration the book was plucked out of your hands by Jacob, who had, up until know, been patiently snuggling to your side as you read. The nearby park that you two had settled in had a noticeably less amount of citizens about than when you first sat down on this park bench to read. Exasperatedly Jacob spoke up as he closed your book, "for someone taking a day off of work you're not very good at avoiding work." 

Merely rolling your eyes you stood up to stretch your legs. "Well it looks as if the sun will set within the hour." You turned on one heel to face him, right hand extended to him, "wanna go to the pub?" You smiled crookedly at him, "perhaps a little bit of alcohol will take my mind off of work."

Jacob huffed out a laugh and took your hand to help himself up, "I wonder how many pints it will take to get you acting like a fool." He linked your arm through his as you both set off. "Maybe just one perhaps." 

You elbowed him lightly, "not all of us have the spare time to hit the pub after a day of work." But you could not frown at him, he was still smiling and it was contagious damnit! 

He hummed, "I'll take you to one of the pubs where the Ghost Club frequents - the club run by Charlie."

You nodded, remembering him telling you about said club, "Dickens, right?" He simply hummed a yes. "Well, I've always wanted to meet the man, the stories you tell of your adventures sound exhilarating."

Jacob scoffed, "if you think chasing fake apparitions is exhilarating I should take you to a Templar hunt mission, or a train heist." He chuckled to himself at the thought. 

Though Jacob did not take you to a train heist he did take you to a pub in Southwark, it was a bustling night inside indicating that there indeed was a meeting of the Ghost Club. The sun had started lowering by the time you had arrived so the warmth of the pub seemed particularly inviting. Jacob only un-twined your arms to usher you inside and once through the threshold he put a hand on the small of your back guiding you to the bartender. "Busy night, eh, Simon?" Jacob said to the bartender who was cleaning a pint in his hand. 

Simon nodded over to Charles Dickens on the other side of the pub, surrounded by men and woman paying close attention to him. "Other Ghost Club meeting - the usual for you?" Jacob nodded. Simon eyed you questioningly.

That was clearly you cue to order, "oh! Well I'll have whatever he's having. I hope he has good taste." You slyly looked at Jacob in the corner of your eye as you said so. 

Jacob feigned mock hurt, "what a cheeky bird, perhaps I should have left you at the park."

Before long you and Jacob both had a pint in hand - not too bad in taste if you did have to say so - and headed over to the table Dickens was at. The man saw you two approach and smiled widely, "ah Jacob you have returned for another tale!," he turned to you, "and you have brought a guest - a new member perhaps?" He raised a pointed eyebrow at you.

"Well Mister Dickens I have yet to be convinced," you said around your pint as you took another swig. "If today's tale is intriguing enough you may as well have a new member." You could see Jacob smiling at you in the corner of your eye.

Dickens nodded at that, "well I should think so - today we have been in talks about a haunted house. It has been reported that supernatural occurrences have been happening within the house on a regular basis."

Jacob spoke up then, "then what are we doing here talking about it - best to see it for ourselves."

Dickens toasted to that, "right you are," and finished off his drink. You and Jacob followed suite, though you could not get quite to the bottom of your drink as a pint was actually a lot. Wiping your mouths off and roughly setting your pints down onto the table you and Jacob followed Dickens outside, Jacob close behind you with his hand on the small of your back again. The little tactile interaction made you smile. 

* *

Turns out the supernatural elements of the house were just the workings of a man driven mad by despair - Jacob quick to act to protect you and Dickens from harm. You had not been worried when you saw the man turn violent - you had been with Jacob and you knew Jacob would allow no harm to come to you ever again. Right now you can Jacob were curled up on the couch in front of your fireplace and reminiscing over the day's events. You giggled to yourself as you recalled Jacob having to sprint after a pesky child at the haunted house whilst you and Dickens remained behind. "Tsk, you two making me do all the work" Jacob grumbled as you tried to stifle your giggles, though there was no harshness in his voice.

You bit your bottom lip to stop giggling and curled closer into Jacob's chest, "sorry darling, having to do all the hard work running after that brat." Laughter bubbled up in your chest again but you suppressed it by kissing the hollow of Jacob's neck.

He hummed at that, sending vibrations through your body. "Well at least it has provided Charlie with another story to write - yet another case cracked in the Ghost Club." Jacob rubbed his thumb on your right bicep. "I trust you enjoyed yourself this evening?" 

You smiled up at him, "yes I found it very exhilarating - perhaps a train heist is in order, tonight was a lot of fun."

Jacob kissed the crown of your head, "well a train heist is quite the escalation, perhaps another appearance at the Ghost Club can suffice for now?"

"I suppose you are right, which means I must agree to be a member - I am sure Charles will be pleased." Today had been a lovely day to say the least. Nothing and nobody to worry about, seeing a part of Jacob's life that was not just helping those in need or defeating the bad guys. It was definitely something you could see yourself getting used to. Jacob must have sensed so as he clutched onto you tighter and pressed a loving kiss to your mouth. Your heart skipped a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos - it’s late here.


	9. Watchmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my lord am I _so_ sorry for the long update! I'm currently in my last semester, ever, for university so my mind has been elsewhere. The previous chapter (8) I am not happy with and will probably go back at some point and fix it. Thanks once again to everyone who has been on this journey with me! xo
> 
>  
> 
> On a side note, I am so **not** looking forward to "Assassin's Creed" Odyssey, it just looks like another generic open world game with far too many side missions, yawn. Don't get me wrong I love ancient Greece (Classics is literally my minor) but ehh the game looks bland.

Today you were off duty and being off duty meant wearing a dress, no doubt. _Uncomfortable bloody contraption._ Though when you wear dressed head-to-toe in your usual steal coat and black trousers when on duty, you still received many quizzical stares. It was not expected of a nurse to wear trousers, even Miss Nightingale was no exception to the rule. But, you just brushed these concerns off - if you needed to get to a patient quickly a dress would not do. Besides, since meeting Evie you felt more at ease with your choice of clothing. Today you wished you had burnt all your dresses in the fireplace. Yet, here you were in the centre of The Strand being shown around the third house for sale. You had figured to play the part of a typical woman in London whilst house hunting, though of course this had not helped the estate workers form taking you seriously, you were without chaperonage after all.  


"As you see here Mrs, the drawing room is spacious and inordinate in luxury." The estate agent motioned to the room around you both, specifically the enormous fireplace on the far western side, "Most certainly an excellent room for you husband and accompanying guests."  


Indeed the room was gorgeous, a deep emerald green with gold trimmings. "Yes, I am sure my husband and I will impress many guests in here." You tried to keep your tone neutral, not harsh and snappy like you felt. Husband! Why must a woman's entire existence be tied to a man!? You dismissed the thought before your annoyance could fester, the drawing room was the last room in the house you had to view, which you were glad for as you could no longer wait to get home and take off this constricting corset.  


The estate agent escourted you out of the house, stopping once outside the front door, "I trust you will confide with your husband and come back to me on his thoughts."  


You nodded sharply, "Indeed I shall. Thank you Mister Taylor, do tell the residents of the house they have done a marvelous job with the house's upkeep." Your words were sincere, the house was beautiful.  


He tipped his hat, "Indeed I shall. Until we meet again." He waved you off as you quickly exited the premises through the gate. 

The busy seas of London stretched out before you. Many foreigners to London found the mass of people and horses rather overwhelming and rightly so. However, to you it was home, the fast pace, working around the clock city was bustling with life and you would not have it any other way. Though the city is under a ever-so-present cloud of greying smog, the cobblestone streets filthy and ragged beggars on every corner, you could not beat London on a good day. Today was one of those days, the sun filtering through the leaves of trees, their shadows casting intricate patterns on the sidewalk. Even the sun presently filtering through glass ceiling through the metal support beams from above within the train station, it cast a whimsical effect on the station's interior. Since you were wearing a dress with many petty-coat layers you had opted out of driving your carriage, it was neigh impossible, so today you decided to commute by train. Of course the trip from central London to the Strand was no big feat, well it certainly seemed so when confined into a tight dress, hence the choice of transportation. Stony, fleeting stares were you met with by every bypasser, the people of London always had places to be and their facial expressions reflected that. Long ago you had learnt to go with the flow and it would take a lot more than grumpy looks to get your mood down, you strung up a smile and you navigated your way to platform number seven. The platform was vacant of any train, you were a tad early, and all the waiting seats were already occupied. No matter, the sun was filtering through the glass ceiling and warming your face. A man in a tidy black suit who was sitting down on one of the platform's benches stood up an gestured at you to take his place. Warmly you accepted his offer and thanked him kindly. That was one perk you got out of the gentlemen of London as a woman and you would be damned if you weren't going to take it, with society being so patriarchal you took what you could get.

However, once you got comfortable settled into the seat you could not shake the feeling of eyes pouring into your shoulder blades. The sensation made you shiver. You used your peripherals to look beside yourself before slowly turning around, though found no one staring at you. Still, you could not shake the feeling of being watched. The train would arrive any minute now but you did not exactly want to be stuck in a confided space with no way to exit. You scanned around the area again, this time noting the overhanging platform just behind your right-hand side, there were a few Templars pacing about and a few ordinary citizens. It was hard to see from this angle, the platform being so high up, but you noticed one man simply leaning against the railing, overlooking the sea of people. He was not dressed to stand out, he bore no Templar mark, his entire outfit was dreadfully plain and black, his top hat obscuring his face. Though you could not be certain, you had a feeling in your gut that this man was suspicious. The blaring sound of your train pulling up to your platform made you turn away in surprise and you stood as if to line up to enter the train... but you still felt uneasy. Looking up again at the raised platform you noticed the man on the railing was no longer there and you could not see him descending down any of the stairs leading to said platform. Panic seized you. Perhaps you were just catastrophising, but ever since your last encounter with bad men in a train station you did not want to ignore your instinctual feelings. So, you moved out of the line, receiving some quizzical stares, and pushed your way deep into the crowds. Though the public had not aided you last time you were in distress weeks beforehand, it did provide cover. Literally going with the flow of the crowd you were eventually shoved out onto the slightly less hectic streets. Biting your bottom lip you weighed your options, you could take an omnibus - but they were dreadfully slow and easy to tail, or you could walk - faster but potential for there to be less people around. Taking a quick glance behind you at the stairwell into the train station you were meet with a sea of people, a sea of men with top hats and black coats. You gripped onto your purse tighter and opted to walk back to the center of London, it was midday and the streets were as packed as ever. Trying your best to blend into the crowd you made your way East towards London central, rounding a corner gave you the chance to glance behind you and you swore you saw that suspicious man from the train station following you. Taking deep breaths you tried not to panic. You had seen the Frye twins evade followers in crowds like it was no hard feat, you could do it too, you just had to be clever enough. So, you took the long way home, through one of the on-street markets which were very densely packed with people and it was also very noisy. Unsure if you were still being pursued you "accidentally" knocked over a stand of apples, apologising profusely to the cart owner. This created a huge mess, people swarmed in to help (or steal) and you quickly made your escape to the end of the markets. You walked for two more blocks until you checked behind yourself, sure enough there was a man not so discretely hiding his face from yours, top hat down low and coat lapels covering his entire lower face. You needed to cross the road, but he would see you waiting with all the other pedestrians at the crossing if you did so. The street was absolutely packed with horses and carriages, claustrophobically so, but it gave you an idea. Ahead you saw a big group of working men walking towards you, getting them between you and your stalker was your chance to act, and act you did. As soon as the group of men passed a carriage you quickly opened said carriage's door, which bless your luck was empty and with all the noise of London going on the driver did not notice, and promptly got inside. Luckily the curtains were pulled, but you peaked out the corner of one to see your stalker walk past and around the corner. Wanting to get home and not go on a wild goose chase in a carriage you lept out the other side of the carriage and got out directly into traffic. It was overwhelming and dangerous, you got yelled at, but you eventually made it to the other side of the street with not stalker in sight. You let out a sigh of relief and carried on with your way home, quicker than usual.

After walking two-and-a-half blocks you were almost to your housing complex, you could continue to walk your usual route for another block or go a much quicker way down an alley. You were so stressed and just wanted to take a nice hot bath you opted for the alley, checking over your shoulder you were still not being followed. There were a few begging kids at the entrance of the alleyway but otherwise the alleyway seemed vacant as you quickly made your way through. As you approached the end of the alleyway you were suddenly lurched back by your right shoulder and shoved against the brick wall, your eyes screwed shut in terror. 

"Not bad for a first goose chase, love." Said a very familiar voice. 

You exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging immediately - you knew that voice anywhere - and opened your eyes to a smug Jacob Frye. "You've scared me half to death is what you've done!" You hit him gently on the chest with your purse, to which he chuckled at. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, noticing you looking at his clothing. "What is with all this scrutiny, dear?" 

He was wearing a boring, black, bland coat, trousers, shirt and top hat - nowadays you were used to him wearing more flashy coats and vests. "I am simply appalled in your choice of attire." 

Jacob huffed and gently removed his hand from your shoulder, releasing you from the wall. "Well now, if I dressed up like I normally do you would have spotted me from a mile off." You merely rolled your eyes in response. He hummed, to himself mostly. "Sorry for getting you worked up darling, but we need to work on your stealth skills." He held his left arm out to you to link your right arm through it. 

Which you did, "There is only so much you can teach me to defend myself, Jacob. I'm a healer, not a fighter or defender like you." Since your incident with the Templars and Blighters you both agreed Jacob needed to train you just enough to defend yourself or flee if need be. 

Jacob led you both out of the alleyway and towards your home, "I know, I know - I just worry about you is all." 

You scoffed loudly, "and who has been living in London their whole life?" You raised your eyebrow challengingly at him. 

"Moot point. I'm not the one who got kidnapped." He teased. 

"Pah!" You dismissed the comment with a wave of your hand and changed the subject. "On a good note, I think I found a house in the Strand I want to purchase - though of course I need my _husband_ to process the whole deal." 

Jacob reddened at the mention of husband, stuttering out his next words. "Husband? How traditional." 

You shrugged. "It will be difficult to buy the house with my so-called-husband absent." 

Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Alright! I'll pose as your husband if it will make the ordeal go smoother." 

You smiled up at him and elbowed him in the ribs teasingly. "Why thank you dear husband of mine." Jacob's face went as red as a Templar's red cross.

* * * *

Your bathroom floor was covered in medical tools and damp rags everywhere, your bloodied grey coat discarded somewhere else on the floor. Currently you were sitting on the floor with a almost-boiling pot of water in between your legs and were removing hunks of glass out of your left forearm. The bigger chunks of glass that you had already gotten out were sitting to your right in a bowl you never used as it had gotten chipped in the move to your new house. Right now you were squinting to pull out the last of the glass, the smaller pieces hurt to get our even moreso than the larger pieces and were harder to find. The boiling water was to keep your hands and tools constantly clean, after each removal of glass you would sterilise your pliers in the hot water. You were on your last piece of glass when you heard Jacob's worried voice from downstairs, calling out your name. 

"I'm in the bathroom!" You replied loud enough for him to hear. 

You finally got a latch on the last piece of glass and the next thing you knew a very worried Jacob was crouched down next to you, he said nothing whilst you got the last chunk out. It was not until you put the pliers down and finally looked up at him when he spoke. "What happened?" There was so much worry and concern in both his eyes and voice. 

Sighing you reached for your bottle of white vitriol, antiseptic, and started drowning a clean rag in the liquid. "I was trying to help out this man who had injured his foot from a work accident, but you know how the pubic are with the doctors and nurses, he was afraid and hit me in the arm with a glass bottle before booking it." 

In the corner of your eye you saw Jacob's fists clench tightly, going white at the knuckles. "If I see that sonovabitch-" 

With your uninjured arm you reached up to his face, making him look you in the eyes. "Jacob, I am fine - see, it was shallow, my coat taking most of the glass' impact." You let go of his face to reach for the rag of antiseptic. 

Jacob sighed and reached for the rag himself, he hushed your protests, "Just... let me help you, please." The look in his eyes was impossible to refuse, you simply nodded for him to continue. The antiseptic stung, horribly so, you bit your lower lip and scrunched up your face. "Sorry." Jacob whispered under his breath. Once all was done you shoved Jacob of the room, stating you wanted to clean up and change clothes, but not before Jacob could sneak a quick kiss to your forehead. The act made you blush ever so slightly. 

Once cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes, nightwear no less, you entered your drawing room with the fireplace now aflame and saw Jacob lounging on one of the couches with a book in hand and two cups of tea on the table. As he heard you enter he immediately dropped the book and beckoned you join him on the couch, which you did. You snuggled up to him, body pressed against his, you smiled with contentment. "Pretty fancy drawing room you've got here." He said as he carded a hand through your hair. 

You hummed at the action. "Thank you for helping me with my arm." 

You felt him scoff more than actually hear him doing so. "All I did was put a rag to your cuts, now if I had actually been there to help-" Cutting him off from finishing that sentence you pulled away from his chest to look at him. "You cannot be looking out for me 24/7, you have people who actually need your help. Besides, there are more and more Rooks appearing in every street every day, soon enough there will be someone in green to protect me at a moments notice if need be." 

Jacob smiled fondly at that and brushed the hair out of your eyes. "I just don't want to lose the best nurse of all of London - who will patch up all my Rooks?!." 

Smiling at him in return you simply leaned forward and placed your lips against his in a deep, loving kiss. "I worry about you too, off saving the world and all." 

He barked out a laugh at that. "God, I love you so much, woman." 

Your heart skipped a beat. "And I love you too, you oaf!" Your lips met once again in a loving, long kiss, your silhouettes illuminated by the fireplace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to write a short continuation fic set during the Jack The Ripper DLC. I'd love to see how nurse!reader deals with all the horrific events of that DLC...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much if you leave kudos/comments! x
> 
> The more kudos/comments the more fics I'll write!
> 
> Sorry again for any typos! x


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